


The Seduction

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: Jaime Lannister was certain that the hulking blonde woman in Pinkmaiden 2B was trying to seduce him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for the people who get me through the day, with their emails and PMs and Tumblr messages. Thanks to the mods and my friends and ...just all of you.
> 
> Thank you for always supporting me and the board.
> 
> And thanks so much to Quinn and Sandwiches for the beta and the encouragement :)

Jaime Lannister was certain that the hulking blonde woman in Pinkmaiden 2B was trying to seduce him. She wouldn’t be the first to make the attempt.

Jaime had been living in The Riverlands Condominiums for three years. Over that time, a succession of neighbors had tried to get him into bed. Myranda Royce in Fairmarket 1C had appeared at his door, wearing only a bath towel, claiming to be locked out of her own condo. Hildy Rivers in Raventree 3D had flashed him her ample tits at the pool. A month before her wedding, Pia Peckledon in Harrenhal 5B had drunkenly called him and had asked him to give her one last night before she settled down. None of them had succeeded.

Much to his brother’s chagrin, Jaime considered himself immune to the attention of women.

But this ugly woman, she wasn’t like the others. Her technique was different, an intriguing mix of physical confidence and seeming bashfulness. Brienne Tarth was the name on her mailbox. More like Brienne _Tart._ She was a very subtle seductress. It wouldn’t work though. Jaime was on to her. Still, he was enjoying her attempts, and in fact, he was enjoying just watching her.

When he’d caught her waggling her ass at him as she’d cleaned out her car, he’d stared at her, just as she’d planned. He’d let her catch him and she’d coyly turned pink and marched away.

He’d eyed her again at the complex’s gym where she’d tried to lure him in with the flex of her triceps as she’d strapped on a weight belt and completed fifty, _fifty_ , perfect bench dips. He’d just given her a smirk and removed his shirt while he’d worked his shoulders with free weights. He’d poured some of his bottled water on his chest then rubbed down both of his arms, just to cool off. She’d given him a muscle show; he’d just returned the favor. When he’d caught her staring, she’d turned more red than pink and laid down on the weight bench and prepared to lift. If _that_ wasn’t a hint as to her true intentions, he didn’t know what _was_.

The way the condos were situated, each had a small back patio accessible by sliding glass Volanti doors. The angle from Jaime’s wasn’t perfect for him to see onto hers, but by moving his grill to the far right edge of the concrete and positioning it on a diagonal, he had a more than acceptable view. Of course she’d waited until she saw him outside making dinner to hang her flower baskets, reaching up to expose tantalizing inches of toned stomach and obliques. He’d been so busy ignoring her that he’d burned his pork chops.

It had been going on for three weeks, and any moment now, she would be on her patio for her morning post-run stretch. But Tyrion’s big fat head was blocking his view. He should never have invited his brother over for Sunday morning breakfast.

“Move,” Jaime ordered.

Tyrion wiggled back and forth in his seat, flapping his arms about. “I’m moving.”

Jaime rolled his eyes, rose from his seat and pulled Tyrion’s chair six inches to the right. He sat back down and checked the positioning. He nodded and shoveled a bite of eggs in his mouth.

Tyrion looked at Jaime, then at the blank television screen which was the only object on the wall, then back at his brother.

“Uhm, you know that’s not turned on.”

Jaime leaned forward. “Hah!” he barked, “There she is.”

Tyrion with a furrowed brow moved around to Jaime’s side of the table.

Brienne had just come out on her porch. She raised her arms to the sky, her fitted sleeveless running tank riding up her stomach. She grabbed her left arm by the elbow and pulled it back behind her head. Then the right. She always started her cool down with her arms, moving down her body to her ankles but finishing by stretching her long, thick neck.

“What are we looking at?” Tyrion asked.

Jaime pointed a slice of bacon at the television. “My newest neighbor. She’s trying to seduce me.” Not taking his eyes off of her distorted reflection, he slightly misjudged the location of his mouth, accidentally ramming the pork into his cheek. He recovered quickly, now enjoying both the bacon and the show.

Tyrion tilted his head. “All I see is an enormous blond guy stretching on his patio.”

Jaime snorted. “She’s not a _man_. She’s just tall. And muscular. I mean, check out those quads.”

Brienne had reached behind her, pulling her left foot up to her ass, stretching her thighs.

Tyrion replied, “Quads aren’t usually the part of a woman’s anatomy that most interests me.”

“Hrmph,” Jaime grunted. “She runs every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday morning, and then she times her sexy little stretching routine to coincide with my breakfast.” He took the last bite of eggs, pleased that he made his mouth on the first try.

“And you watch her reflection in your TV screen?”

Brienne completed her cool-down, took a long drink of water, adjusted one of her patio chairs and then went back inside her unit. Jaime turned to his brother.

“She’s been at it for weeks now. She thinks she’s wearing me down, but she’s underestimated my willpower.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “Of course she has. Not just any woman would interest my big brother. Not after一”

“Don’t say it,” Jaime stopped him.

“Fine, yes, I know, you’re just ‘choosy.’” Tyrion put the word in dismissive finger bobs before finishing his own eggs. “So who is this _seductive_ new neighbor?”  

“She’s not actually seductive. She’s ugly. But she’s trying to be ugly hot. Her name is supposedly Brienne Tarth.”

Tyrion raised one brow, “ _Ugly hot_?”

Jaime tried to explain, “You know, when a woman isn’t conventionally pretty but she oozes sex appeal by the way she walks and uses her body so you don’t notice how ugly she is and you can’t stop looking at her.”

“And you’re saying that enormous manly woman is ugly hot and that’s why you can’t stop looking at her?”

Jaime reared back. “I can stop. Of course I can stop. She’s not hot. She’s just _trying_ to be hot and get me interested. She’s not _succeeding_.”

“Of course not,” Tyrion agreed, nodding sagely. “So what does this sexpot do for a living?”

Jaime let the term ‘sexpot’ go. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth arguing with Tyrion when he got a ridiculous idea in his brain. “Sam Tarly in Oldstones 4A says she’s an emergency medical technician. He described her as _super nice and super helpful_. His words, not mine.”

“I’m sure Sam and Gilly are grateful considering how active Little Sam has become. The kid must be covered in cuts and bruises.”

Jaime snorted at Tyrion’s mistake. “Little Sam is a tank. That kid could be left out in a blizzard for three days and survive on his own. It’s Big Sam who’s the problem. Sam says EMT Tarth fixed up the cut on his chin from the ceiling fan and the burn on his knee from a soup tureen.”

Tyrion raised his eyebrows.

Jaime shrugged. He had no idea how Sam was able to injure himself on a daily basis, but he had cut his emergency room trips to almost nothing now that a medically capable strumpet was just around the corner.

Jaime checked his watch. After a run, it usually took her thirty-two minutes to shower and change. He grabbed the dirty dishes, shoved them in the dishwasher and then hustled Tyrion into the great room, which afforded him a nice view of the complex entrance, or exit. He’d see if EMT Tarth would be running errands today, probably to the farmer’s market. Not ten minutes later, he saw her boxy blue car drive past.

“Tyrion, why don’t we take a trip to those fruit tents over on Rosby,” he suggested. “I’m almost out.”

“You mean the greengrocer?” Tyrion pointed into the kitchen. “And by ‘almost out’ you mean less than a half dozen bananas and that full basket of peaches on your counter?”

Jaime furrowed his brow. He’d picked up the peaches by accident when he’d seen that the temptress had put down the cantaloupe she’d been fondling while demurely avoiding catching his eye. It had been easier just to pay for them than put them back. “I’ve developed a taste for custard apples and you can only find them at the farmer’s market.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “You always did have a soft spot for the unusual.” He rose from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Fine, big brother, let’s go find you something ugly on the outside, but sweet and tasty on the inside.”

“If we can’t find what I want at the market, we should maybe go to the grocery,” Jaime added. “Or the dry cleaner.”

一

Jaime Lannister would _not_ be seduced. It had been five weeks since the tease from Tarth had begun her campaign to snare him. For five weeks, he’d held out, waiting for her to knock on his door, ask to borrow a cup of sugar and then throw herself at him. She hadn’t. She was far better at this game than he’d assumed.

In fact, Jaime had begun to have _thoughts_ about this Brienne. Naked thoughts. Naked thoughts when he was naked. Naked thoughts when he was naked in the shower. He banished those very thoughts from his mind.

Jaime Lannister would _not_ be seduced. He repeated it to himself as he made his way from his unit on Golden Tooth over to Pinkmaiden. He said it one more time as he knocked on the vixen’s door, hand wrapped in a towel. Jaime hadn’t meant to cut himself. Certainly not. It had been an accident. He’d been chopping tomatoes when he’d caught sight of her on her patio, this time wearing shorts, flashing her ridiculously long, muscled legs at him.

It had been entirely her fault that the knife had slipped, slicing him open. Her and her attempts to tempt him. It was only fitting that she be the one to help him with his injury. It had nothing to do with his desire to see her up close and determine if her eyes were as blue as they seemed from afar. And it was a _serious_ cut, well, not _that_ serious. It was just that he wasn’t dexterous enough with his left hand to bandage his right.

The would-be femme fatale opened the door, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. Her eyes were even bluer than he’d suspected. They were astonishing. He waved his injured hand and croaked out, “I cut myself.”

Her eyes turned from feigned surprise to legitimate concern and she ushered him into her kitchen, making sure to give him a good long opportunity to stare at her bare legs and muscular backside. She pulled a first aid kit from a side drawer and turned back to him, only to catch him staring. Deep red blotches worked their way up her neck and over her freckled face. He was surprised the whites of her pretty blue eyes hadn’t turned pink.

Up close, she was even uglier than he’d thought, but she used that ugliness to disguise her true intentions. She was so very coy. She smiled at him awkwardly and Jaime grinned, suddenly enjoying this game.

As she sat him down at her breakfast nook, he introduced himself and told her that Sam had mentioned her. She nodded and smiled a little, almost coquettishly, before bending over to work on his hand.

Her touch was so gentle as she examined the cut, an adorable furrow developing between her white-blonde brows. Jaime stared at her glistening bottom lip and the big white horsey teeth holding it. She talked him through every step as she worked, presumably to make him a participant in the treatment, but really just so his attention never wavered from the sound of her voice, the clean smell of her skin, the everything that was her.

She was a shameless tease, this Brienne Tarth, with her deliberate flushes and seductive freckles. She delicately applied two Band-Aids to cover the wound.

Seemingly finished with the treatment portion of her come-on, she lifted her head and met his eyes. "There. I think it should be fine. Just keep it clean and change Band-Aids. And I'll get you a tube of antibiotic cream."

A red flush spread over her skin again. He made a decision that instant. If she wanted to seduce him so badly, he would simply let her.

Jaime lunged forward and pressed his mouth to hers in a sloppy, wet kiss. He pulled back and began kicking off his shoes. "Fine. See. You've won. I yield. You can have your way with me."

He paused to look at her as he reached to unfasten his belt buckle with his one good hand. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was hanging open. "I just ask that you be gentle." His eyes raked over her muscular form as he reached to unzip his jeans, ready to free himself from their near painful confinement. "Well, you needn't be that gentle. I'm strong enough to handle you."

Pain exploded in his left eye. He staggered back, falling over the arm of her couch and into the cushions, landing awkwardly on his hand in an attempt to break his fall.

一

“You what?” Tyrion asked again through the phone.

“I told you,” Jaime explained, not so patiently, for the second time, “I need you to come drive me to the urgent care to have my eye checked out. I might have a broken orbital bone and can’t drive because I think I sprained my wrist.” Jaime shifted the steak he’d slapped against his face.

“And what happened to that new nurse neighbor of yours, why can’t she help?”

Jaime sighed and it hurt. He grunted, “She’s an emergency medical technician, not a nurse, Tyrion. She did help with the cut on my hand.”

“I thought you said you hurt your wrist?” Tyrion asked.

“I did, when I fell over her couch,” Jaime responded, his patience wearing thin.

“Just how did you manage to fall over a couch?”

“I already told you this, she punched me.”

“And why did she do that again?”

Jaime growled, “Just come over before my eyeball recedes into my brain.”

“What brain?” Tyrion asked as Jaime ended the call.

一

Jaime barely caught a glimpse of her over the next six days.  Either he overslept because of his pain medication, she stretched indoors to avoid the rain, or she’d simply run or duck inside if he saw her around the complex. He knew she was around though. She left his shoes on his doorstep the morning after he’d kissed her, a tube of antibiotic cream tucked inside.

Never before had Jaime been punched by a woman, and certainly not by one who was so obviously attracted to him. Not that he remembered much about the punch itself. His memory of his time in her apartment was centered on the feel of her lips on his. Her big, chapped, red, delicious lips. Damn her. All he wanted to do was kiss her again, but she was in the pushing-him-away stage of her devious plan. She was clearly in this for the long haul.

Now that she was obviously avoiding him, he’d been released from watching her comings and goings. It should have been freeing anyway. At least he was no longer tied to his front and back windows.

Instead, he caught glimpses of her every time he went out. He spotted her at the movie theater when he went to see the new action film, _Wolves of Winter_. She just happened to be at the Norvoshi burger place when he went to pick up his takeout. He even saw her shopping for a Ryger table at Willow Wood. He’d catch sight of her and watch until she noticed him, then she’d turn red and dash away. The teasing was driving him crazy. He could wait her out though. Of course he could.

Jaime sat in his car doing just that, waiting her out. Not waiting _for_ her. Of course not. He just needed to reorganize his glove box. Twice. He wasn’t waiting for her to come home, not at all. He hadn’t even planned out a gambit to talk to her by apologizing for his seemingly unwanted kiss and thanking her for treating his hand and returning his shoes. He had no intention of falling into her siren’s trap.

Her boxy little car pulled into the lot. Before she could finish parking in her space, he was out of his car, casually standing in the path from the lot to her apartment, flipping through a magazine. He waited to hear the slam of her car door. Nothing. He flipped another page. Still nothing. What was she doing? He peeked over his magazine and caught her watching him. She quickly looked away and fiddled with something in the passenger seat, trifling with him.

Jaime dropped his magazine and bent over to pick it up, hoping he’d be hidden from her view. As he crouched on the path, he heard her door slam and the heavy sound of her footsteps on the asphalt.

Just as her white trainers came into view, he popped up and greeted her. “Well, hullo, fancy meeting you here.”

Her face turned a horrific splotchy red as she stepped back away from him, holding her overfull grocery bag protectively in front of her chest.

Jaime smirked at her coy posture before launching into his not-at-all prepared speech. “Been meaning to stop by and apologize.”

She gazed at him with alluring distrust, her blue eyes wide and delicate. She mumbled something that sounded like ‘sorry about your face’ and moved to step away.

Jaime went on, “I thought you’d want to jump to the end, but seems you’re enjoying the game.”

Her blonde brows spiked into a sharp vee on her forehead, “Game?”

He rolled up his magazine and tapped it against his hand holding back a wince as he hit the recent cut, “Many of the ladies here at The Riverlands have tried, you know.”

“Tried what?” she asked.

Jaime knew he should be a little more patient, draw out the conversation, not reveal what he knew, but something about her sexy guileless blue eyes made him spill. “Your little seduction game of course.” He stepped closer to her. “You’re quite good, you know. That punch almost convinced me you weren’t interested.”

She reared back. “Seduction game? What is this? Some kind of _bet_?” She growled at him with pretend menace. She was quite the minx, but there was something off in the tone of her voice.

He barged ahead. “Is that it, you have a bet with some of the other ladies? You can let them know you’ve won. I _am_ interested, my tarty Tarth.” He let his eyes travel down her frame and back up again as she gaped at him. “And quite willing to be seduced.”

“You think I’m trying to seduce you?” she hissed, pressing her full plush lips together into a thin line.

“Well, what would you call it?” he asked, raising his brow. Maybe it had been a mistake being so frank, but he was a bit tired of the game and just wanted to take her to dinner. And kiss her. He definitely wanted to kiss her. And not be punched afterwards.

“I am _not_ trying to seduce you,” she growled charmingly.

Jaime rolled his eyes and gave in. If it were the semantics bothering her, it was no matter to him. “Fine. We won’t call it a seduction. Trying to… entice me? Tempt me? Turn me on? Flexing your muscles, stretching so I get a good long look at your legs? And not just your body, showing me how alike we are too, ordering your Norvoshi burger the exact same way as mine, stalking me at the movie even.” He smiled reassuringly. “Call it whatever you like.”

She brandished her shopping bag at him. “I am not trying to _turn you on_!” Her face flamed at that phrase. How did she manage to do that at will? “I work out because I like working out. I always get my Norvoshi burgers medium rare with extra mustard, and I was at the theater before you even arrived!” She was near shouting now, the muscles straining in her thick freckled neck. “You’re the one trying to seduce me! Following me everywhere, looking at me with your stupid handsome face. Stripping off your shirt in the weight room like...like...like a _stripper_ ,” she spluttered.

“Hah!” He pounced on her slip. “I knew you liked my body! Just admit it. You’ve been baiting me with your eyes. You’ve practically been stalking me.”

“What is wrong with you? I’m not _stalking_ you. You came over to my apartment on the pretense of asking me to bandage the tiny cut on your hand.” She swung her grocery bag for emphasis, dislodging a loaf of bread which thudded against his chest. “Then out of the blue you _kissed_ me and started taking off your pants!”

Jaime caught the bread in his free hand and pointed it at her. “I just decided to yield, but if it’s part of the fun for you play it otherwise, fine. You win. I’ll go along. Am I supposed to ask you out on a date?” He paused to collect himself, gave her his most earnest and winning smile and decided to do exactly that. “My sexy, saucy Brienne Tarth, will you do me the honor of going to dinner with me tonight? We can get that Lhazareen lamb you like so much and then see _Wolves of Winter_ at the IMAX?”

She gurgled delightfully and grabbed the loaf of bread from him, shoving it back in the top of the bag. “What?”

He never thought letting himself be seduced would be this difficult. He gritted his teeth and tried again. “Brienne, I like you. And I think you like me.” Gods, he sounded like an idiot. Like a teenage idiot. He almost said ‘like like.’ He pushed on. “And we obviously enjoy the same things.”

“You _like_ me?” She fiddled with her shopping bag, turning delectably shy but still wary.

He took a step closer, wanting to convince her of his sincerity. He suddenly felt that this wasn’t a game at all, but something more. Something important. He cleared his throat before answering, strong and clear, “I do.”

“And you’re asking me out on a date?” she mumbled.

He shoved his hand in his pocket to stop himself from reaching out to touch her flaming cheek. “I _am_.”

She met his eyes. “Because you really _want_ to go on a date with me?”

Jaime huffed in impatience, “That’s usually why people ask each other out on dates, isn’t it?”

She glared at him as he searched her face for a hint of coyness. “Not always…” her voice trailed off.

Enough was enough. “Yes. I want to go on a date with you. And you want to go on a date with me. I can tell.”

He knew he’d hit that mark when her eyes widened, like a sexy doe poised for flight.

He grinned, deciding to push his point. “And when we get back home after, I’m going to walk you to the door and I am going to kiss you and this time you‘re going to kiss me back and _not_ punch me.” He crossed his arms and nodded at her, knowingly.

Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly, like a coquettish gaping fish. Finally she managed to answer, “Okay.”

Jaime had never felt so relieved. He decided to push his luck, just a little. He leaned in and up and pressed his lips to her flaming cheek before whispering in her ear, “I’ll be over at seven to pick you up.”

Not wanting to risk another black eye, he turned and sauntered back to his condo.

一

Jaime circled the block for the third time. He’d managed to stretch the twenty-minute drive home from the restaurant to forty-five. The film had been even better in 3D, not that he’d watched much of it. He’d been far too distracted by Brienne’s long bare legs. He’d thought her running clothes were provocative, but Brienne in a deceptively modest knee-length dress was captivating.

Dinner had been amazing, and it wasn’t just the food. Not only was Brienne innately sexy, she was smart and funny. They’d discussed battle tactics of the War of the Five Kings for so long that the restaurant staff ended up ready to kick them out. Her knowledge of medieval weaponry was astounding. She was _wonderful_. He was torn between not wanting the date to end and an ever-growing need to give her the scorching goodnight kiss her lips deserved.

As they approached the entrance to The Riverlands, he noticed she’d gone quiet, her head turned to look out the window at the passing lights. This didn’t feel like her other calming silences. This had an edge of tension. Both resigned and eager, he turned on to Riverrun Road and headed towards the parking lot. As he put the car in park and cut the engine, she turned to him.

“Jaime, I’ve had a really nice time tonight but you don’t have一”

He cut her off before her words could complicate things. “It’s not over yet. You just sit there while I come around and open your door like the gentleman I am.”

She crossed her arms and huffed in that delightful Brienne way, but sat patiently waiting.

He hopped out of the car and moved to her side, opening the door with a flourish and presenting her his hand. “My lady,” he said with a slight bow.

She snorted, but took his hand, unfolding her incredibly long legs from the car. He linked his fingers with hers and bumped the car door shut with his hip. Her hand was big and strong and maybe a little damp, but she didn’t pull it away. He swung their arms back and forth, trying to relax her, make her smile.

He looked up at the stars as they made their way up the path. “Hey, look, it’s the Crone’s Lantern.”

Brienne looked at the night sky, the blue of her eyes shining in the ambient light from the complex. She tilted her head. “Are you sure?”

He wasn’t sure at all. He knew next to nothing about astronomy. He reached up with his free hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I could be wrong. I seem to be preoccupied by the Moonmaid.” He ran his hand down her soft cheek feeling her blush heat her skin as they reached her stoop.

She ducked her head and pulled her keys from her pocket. She unlocked and opened her door before turning to him. “Jaime, really you don’t一”

He cut her off with a finger to her lips this time. As he leaned up to kiss her, he whispered, “No punching.”

He pressed his lips to hers softly, then stronger, moving his lips over hers, unable to settle for just a peck. He slid his hand around her waist to the small of her back.

She was kissing him back and it was _everything_. His world narrowed to the feel of her lips and the press of her body. His tongue slid against hers and she made a small inviting moan. His body had a mind of its own as his hand traveled down her leg to the hem of her dress, pulling it up so he could touch the bare skin of her silky thigh. She gasped and twined her fingers in his hair. He broke for air and latched his mouth to her neck, sucking at the tight cords of muscle there.

She drew back slightly and he groaned at the loss of her heat. She pressed her forehead to his.

With a soft laugh he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to seduce me?” He shifted to be sure she could feel his hard cock against her thigh. “Because I certainly want to seduce you.”

She pulled back farther and looked into his eyes. It took all his willpower not to kiss her again. She bit her lip. With a quick nod and a decisive tug, she pulled him inside her living room. He grinned and kissed her as he kicked the door closed.

 


End file.
